I Lied
by a. e. everdeen
Summary: The nations though they were doing great, that there was finally piece. That is, until the serial killer showed up. Who is this person and why are they doing this?
1. Prologue

Most people believe murder is a terrible and wrong thing. How could someone do such a terrible thing? As this occurs more and more often, we ask ourselves this same question. What could compel them to do such a drastic thing? Some people say these murderers should be put to death. That they have killed, so they do not deserve their life. But what if this person was a friend? A person you have known all your life. Would you still want them dead? Could you bear with the fact that they have killed? Could you even answer these questions? The curtain rises, so the story begins.


	2. Death Song

The room is dim, just a light flickering. On and off, on and off. Restless it is. This is it's only purpose in life. All is silent in the house. Silence, even silenter than itself. A little girl comes into the room. She has a big pink bow in her hair. Hair is a blackish-purple. Eyes, purple they are, matching her hair. Just an innocent child, and innocence can be used to describe very little people. Yes here she is, as innocent as a human being can be. She holds a stuffed rabbit in her hand, it is as if they have been through a lot together, longtime friends. She shows no signs of ever wanting to let it go.

As if out of nowhere, which in fact it had, a music box appears. She freezes in time basically. Her grip on the rabbit loosens, and she drops it. Eyes are now wide. She starts to make her way over to the music box. It fascinates her for some reason. Curiosity has taken the best of her. Slowly and carefully, she takes each step, as if she's walking on glass.

Finally, as if it had been forever, she reaches the table. Her hands are small, she can barely pick up the box. It is wooden with the word "Lilium" carved into it. Quickly, she opens it. A mysterious tune plays. As beautiful as it is, it scares her. Not only scares her, but terrifies her. She screams, quickly dropping it. The music still continues to play. She starts to tremble. "This is so familiar…" She whispers.

"This is your death song." A voice says from behind her. Instantly, she recognizes her. "You were the one who killed them!" The little girl says, pointing. She is in hysterics. She could never forget the face of this person. "I prefer Lucy." She responds in a monotone voice. "How could you?" She says, screaming. She collapses on the ground. She holds onto her head, trying to control herself. The music continues to play.

"Why can't this be a much happier song? Aren't music boxes supposed to play happy songs?" She asks. "Kanae, your death song is quite beautiful actually." Kanae managed to pick herself off of the ground. "How do you know my name?" She asks. "I know all." Lucy responds, still emotionless. "Why…WHY?" Kanae screams at the top of her lungs. Eyes filled with tears, blurring her vision. The colors blend together, creating a sight quite beautiful.

"Colors…aren't they all beautiful?" Kanae says softly. She blinks, and finally returns to reality. A reality she would rather not face. "HOW COULD YOU?" She screams, running towards Lucy. Anger envelops them both. All of a sudden, Kanae is suddenly pushed back. Instantly, she hits the wall. She can feel her bones, crunching. Everything hurts.

"Lucy…" Kanae mutters. She can taste her blood in her mouth. Barely, she remains conscious. "It hurts, doesn't it. Don't worry, it'll all end soon." Lucy responds. Kanae is not use to being in so much pain, being so afraid."Have you seen the colors?" Kanae says sweetly, smiling slightly.

Lucy backs up, surprised by this. The room goes silent, you can hear the music just enveloping the room. "Damn you child." She says, laughing. Kanae's smile disappears as her arm is separated from the rest of her body. She cries out in pain. Pain is an understatement. Her body is covered in her own blood.

"Children should not cry." Lucy says. "Child? Who are you calling a child? At least I don't act like one." Kanae yells. She holds onto her stub of an arm with her hand, desperately trying to stop the blood. "Why does pain hurt so much?" She whispers. "Kill me. End me." She demands.

"So suicide by me?" Lucy asks. "I don't have an arm, no one cares about me, what use am I in this world?" She crawls over to the kitchen, which is nearby. She leaves behind a thick trail of blood. She opens a drawer, grabbing the first knife she can find.

She holds it up to her neck, so close she can feel the blade. It is cold, so sharp it could kill in an instant. "I'll do it you know." Before Kanae knows it, the blade digs into her skin. Not deep enough for an instant kill, but enough for blood.

"I was growing inpatient, plus it wouldn't be fun for you to die at your own hands." Lucy muttered. "It hurts…" Kanae says. "It hurts…" She continues to say this over, and over, and over again. She drops the knife, and it falls. Lands on the cold hard ground, making a clanking noise as it meets its fate. Kanae cannot even think, for that just adds onto the pain. She starts coughing, choking on her blood. Some lands on the floor, she stares at it in horror.

"Breath, this is the final one I will take isn't it?" She says, not looking at her killer, but the knife. "Death…come get me." The knife pierces through her eye. "Colors…" She mutters, then collapses on the ground. She is forever dead. The innocence of a child, lost in a single moment. Never can it be returned or gained.

"Maybe I didn't get to see the colors, but know you will forever be a part of them." Lucy says. She walks out of the room, abandoning Kanae. She is please with her work, not a single drop of blood is on her hands. She starts laughing, amazed at how simple this was. Remorse, she has none. She even wishes she could do it again, if only she could murder the same person twice. "What a fun game, maybe if you decide to come back to life we can play it again."

The rabbit just sits there, staring at Kanae, as if expecting her to wake up and take him away. The music box still continues to play, bringing some life back into the dead room. It moves through out the room, as if it were alive. Traveling to ever corner, every nook, making sure anyone or anything around could hear it. Suddenly, the music just dies. All is silent, nothing is well.


	3. Off to School

**~Sealand~**

I wake up, screaming. That nightmare is finally over. Sense, it makes none to me. Where had it come from? "Peter, you need to get ready for school." Dad yells from across the house. I look at the clock. 6:30. Ugh, why does school start so early? The only reason I even decided to go was so I could learn, so maybe this way I could help my own country's educational system. Right now, that is nonexistent, and I'm not going to be getting anymore citizens unless I start one soon. Of course, no one there knows of my true identity. Can't have people distracting me from my main goal.

As I get dressed into my usual outfit, a vision from the dream comes back. That girl, Kanae's face, when she died. It freaks me out, and I fall onto the ground. "Ow…" I say, holding my head. I had hit my head on the door on my plummet down. "Peter hurry up." Dad yells. Either he didn't hear what happened, or just didn't care. I moan, pulling myself off of the ground.

That dream, did it have any real meaning? It came out of the blue, I hadn't been upset or anything. No one in my country had been murdered, and the little girl. Was she a citizen of my country? No, I surely would have recognized her if she had. Maybe I am over thinking this, or maybe I'm not. Should I tell Dad? Everyone has nightmares, this could just be a normal occurrence.

Why am I still thinking about this? It was just one, single nightmare. Doesn't mean anything, or does it? Could it be… "Peter the bus is coming any minute now and you still haven't eaten any breakfast. Come down now and grab a scone." Dad says. He is not yelling, but I can tell he will be in a minute if I don't obey. His scones are…well I am handle one, but anymore than that and I feel like I am going to puke.

Sigh, I'll just think this through later. But what is there to think about? Is there anything even to think about? Getting distracted, I have to go downstairs. Quickly, I grab my backpack. Blue, like the seas that surround my land. Blue like the… "PETER GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW." Dad screams. I really need to stop getting distracted so easily. I run down the stairs, amazingly I do not trip. "Here you go." Dad says, smiling. He looks proud because he thinks he can actually make something that tastes good. Oh well, I don't mind pretending.

"Thanks!" I say enthusiastically. I do a poor job at acting, I'm surprised he hasn't figured out that I am faking yet. I take the scone, and run out of the house. Waiting right outside for me is the bus. Good, it hasn't left yet. Walking is such a chore. The doors open, and I leap inside. I take a seat in the front, since I like to be the first one out. I don't like to associate with Dad's other citizens, it's just easier that way.

I suddenly have the urge to hum, so I do. Not just any song, the song that the music box had played. I cannot help it, it's just such a beautiful song. How could one not enjoy it? Another vision, the girl called Lucy. I cannot see her face, her hair is blocking it. All I can see is the smile. That smile… I scream, suddenly jerking back in my seat. The bus grows silent. The bus driver looks back at me. "Are you ok son?" She asks politely.

Everyone starts to laugh. "Scaredy cat." They all say. I bury my face into my backpack. I try not to cry, but it's so hard. I end up crying, but manage to hide my tears from the others. Why can't school be closer? Finally after forever, we arrive. As always, I am the first one out.

I run to the back of the school, where my classroom is located. This is only an elementary school, but I need to get a start somewhere. Maybe someday, I can go to all of the countries different school. Then, I will have the best school system around!

I sit in one of the desks in the front row. I like to be close, so that way I can absorb all of the information. Probably the only person in the room that actually enjoys learning. As I wait for everyone else to arrive, I continue to hum the mysterious song. I wonder if it has any words, I would love to learn them. If not, I will write them. Such a beautiful tune needs words to help its story be told.

"Ok class, time for a history lesson!" The teacher said cheerfully. I snapped out of my daze to realize that class had already started. "Peter, where is your textbook?" She asked. I could hear some snickering as I dug it out of my backpack. The history of Europe is actually very interesting, I cannot wait to learn about my other fellow countries. Once I start learning about the others, maybe they will finally accept me as one of their own!

The teacher went on with her lesson. Dad has taught me everything I want and would ever want or need to know about his history, so I spend this time leisurely. I draw all over my notebook. I draw robots, all sorts of different designs for them. I plan out stuff for my country, like how to expand it and get more citizens. My country is doing great so far, but eventually we will need to expand or it will all far apart. I dream of someday becoming a great country, like my dad. To be in the textbooks of the other nations, to make an impact. Someday, all of my dreams will become reality.

"Peter, what are you doing?" I hear the teacher say. "Just taking notes." I respond, hoping she won't come over and look at what I've done. "Overachiever." I hear in the background. Somehow, the teacher does not notice. She smiles. "You all should really be more like Peter. He is going to be a big success in life." I smile. So more than my dad believes in me. I won't let them down, failure is not an option. The only option is success.

"Class, I just wanted to tell you I got us a very special friend!" She goes into the backroom. A couple seconds later, she comes back out again. All of the guys groan, but the girls crowd around the teacher, hoping to hold it. I have no interest in it, but I decide to look up and see what it is. No…it can't be…can it? It's the rabbit from my nightmare. But this time, it's not in the arms of a child.


	4. The Girl with the Box Part 1

Dear Journal,

It is no use. I have to give in, give in to her. Fighting has only made me weaker, I don't know how much strength I have left. If I fight this any longer, surely I will be dead. Maybe not dead on the outside, but at least on the inside. Either way, I am scared. Sorry, gomensai, no matter how many times I say this, it'll never be enough. So many ways to say "I'm sorry", not enough to explain how truly sorry I am. I don't know why I am even writing this. Why am I spending my final moments of sanity, whatever is left, writing a stupid note. Light probably won't ever be shed on this piece of paper, worthless it is. Well, to everyone except me. To remind myself of whom I use to be? What am I going to become? To whom ever is reading this, you must care. Wow, hard to believe. Someone cares. You sure cared enough to look for this note, it's not just out in the open for anyone to take. Mysterious reader, were you reading this just to hope for secrets unknown to the world? If you have read this whole journal, you know them all. If you just flipped to the last page, I guess all you want to know is the ending, if there was a happy one or a sad. You're like most, all they care about the ending and don't care about what happens to create that or get there. But unlucky for you, I will not write the ending. At least, not into this journal. That is because the ending is not written yet, and eventually you to will know. I give no spoilers. You probably don't, nor will ever understand my decision. Good. You don't need to know. To the demon that is trying to possess me, I would just like you to know. Just because you have won the battle, it does not mean you have won the war. I will still be here, in there somewhere. I just wish I had someone to fight for besides myself. One think I wonder though, is this demon really myself in disguise? Goodbye, sayonara. Still, not enough words for me to say. I guess these are all I need, for now.

**~Lucy~**

My journal is nothing more than a bunch of unorganized loose leaf papers I bound with some string. Such a flimsy thing, yet I hold it near and dear to me. Now, I give that up. The moonlight shines over the river. So calming. This, I will miss. The crickets are chirping. This calms me, but only slightly. These will be the last noises I hear for a long time. I just wish it could be a bird. The song of a bird, that is. Birds are amazing, beautiful creatures. Graceful and majestic. The only thing that has helped me contain my anger, my sanity, for so long.

How could I forget? The sea calls my name. But this demon, whatever it is, won't let me answer. Sad it is, my sad tragic story. Maybe someday someone will write it, would others read? I don't know, what is there for me to know? I know nothing, what am I even allowed to know? I know pain, that's for sure. Have I ever even felt true happiness? Why has this happened? What kind of life have I lived? Why am I thinking so much? Why are my thoughts so jumbled up?

_**These questions are a waste of time. Time that could be better spent doing what is meant to be done.**_

I collapse to the ground. My journal falls out of my grasp and I try desperately to grab onto my head, trying my best to silence her. Her, it. I don't even know anymore. This is all just too much.

_**Just surrender already. You know it is meant to be.**_

I have truly gone mad, haven't I? I can barely think through the pain, as if any thoughts belong to me. It's mainly her in control; I'm just more of a passenger to my own life. Again, just more to add to the story of my life. This is all so faced paced. To hard for me to comprehend. My thoughts cannot even comprehend themselves, if that even makes any sense. I sure can't.

I hit my head on a box. I come back to reality, real reality, not just my own. It is a music box, mine. I loved it so much. What am I saying? I still do. Always. A gift, the only thing I can call my own.

It must sound silly to most people, to treasure something like this. Clearly, they have never. Poor them. Poor me. Poor us all. Fools we all are. I pity us all, but pity won't help anyone survive.

I decide that it is finally time to open it. My hands are trembling as I do so, I don't really understand myself why I am so nervous. Barely, I manage to open it. I am surprised I didn't accidentally rip off the lid or something.

A tune, my favorite, plays. It's the only thing that calms the demon that dwells inside of me. I have heard this tune so many times before, I have it memorized. I hum along with it, it cannot be helped. This is the thing that makes me feel human. This is me, feeling like a human. Seems impossible, but I guess it is. I guess anything is possible, just we don't try hard enough. The demon is speechless. Maybe she likes this tune to. Maybe it calms the demon inside her, maybe she has her own demons.

My head hurts from hitting my head on the box. It's just a little pain, I myself have felt so much. So much, other pain seems to just have become numb. Pain is just a daily occurrence, nothing new.

It's a cold day. I hadn't even noticed till now. Somehow, I feel cold. I am use to the cold, at least I thought I was. Oh well. I look at my sleeve. One final time, I must. I pull up my sleeve.

Covered, it is. Scars, there is more scars than skin. I don't like them, I really don't. I don't see how someone could. I guess I kind of do, they are always there for me when no one else is. Also, they are a reminder of that though I am powerful, I am not invincible. Each cut, was caused by the demon. She told me to kill, but I fought back. I had to fight the urge, so I paid the ultimate price. Well not the ultimate ultimate price, but pretty close. Creating the pain was actually fun, which frightens me. She told me to laugh, to laugh at the pain I caused myself, so I did. Laugh at myself. Then when I was finally brought back to reality, I would scream. Scream until I could scream no longer. She seemed pleased, but no longer can I do that. She is impossible to silence, except for the song. I don't know how much longer the song will work on her.

_**You think too much, that needs to stop.**_

She talked? Why? I had been so lost in my thought that I hadn't realized the music had stopped playing. If only it could play forever, then I could live a normal life. Well, as normal of a life as a freak can. My normal is a normal, but is it the real normal? Whatever that is. These words are just so foreign. All of this is just so confusing, you think I would have figured this all out by now. I grab my journal, and hug it. This must look weird to who ever may be walking by, watching, but I just love it so. It's the only thing that understands me. The only thing that cares to listen to my problems. It turns my feelings into a tangible object, which is an amazing feeling.

I really don't want to get rid of it, I really don't. It sadly won't last though after this, it'll most likely be destroyed. By me of course, well kind of. I want a piece of me to still be here, to still exist, even after I'm gone. I want to be remembered, somehow. So many memories. So many…just too much. I start to cry. Not just of sadness, but of fear. What happens next, I have not a clue. I am use to crying, but this somehow feels different. Like a different kind of sadness. Hard to explain, who am I even trying to explain this to?

_**Kill. Kill. Kill. Killer. Killer. Killer.**_

"Shut up!" I scream. The thought just occurs to me, I'm going to be a murderer aren't I? It's not me really doing the killings though, right? Why am I doing this? Then, I realize I'm still clutching the notebook. I place it into the box gently, like it is a small child. Small, fragile, almost like glass. I hope someone finds it, I really do. I hope someone treasures my writing almost as much as I do, did, whatever the right word is. That does not matter. That's all that matters to me. Sigh. I close the box, most likely for the last time. I dig, with my hands, not my vectors. I do not like to use them, because their only use seems to be for evil.

I do not dig very deep, there isn't much time. I cannot deal with this for any longer. Gently, I place the box inside the hole. For someone whose sole purpose is supposed to be killing, I am quite gentle. Also, I do not like killing, no matter what I am told. I cover it with the dirt, hoping that it'll be protected. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if that box was damaged. Precious memories, almost nothing now.

Sigh. Well here goes nothing. I run out into the middle of the street. Feet, pounding into the gravel. Shoes are long gone, the gravel is a familiar but uncomfortable feeling. Out of nowhere it seems, the rain comes. I hadn't even noticed the clouds before, I guess they had been hiding until now. Guess I'm just use to them maybe. It pours. It feels as cold as my heart, as cold as her. I collapse in the middle of the street. "Take me! Just take me already!" I scream. If anyone hears, I don't give a damn. Not like anyone paid attention or cared before. I move my arm forward, reaching for the river, as if it could pull me in, saving me. I am so distracted, I do not pay attention to my surroundings. By the time I do, it seems to be too late.


	5. Lilia Part 1

"Hello England!" America came up running towards England. A big smile upon his face,  
just as usual. He carried a brown bag, filled to the brim with hamburgers.

"I thought I'd pay you a visit. You seem to be really nervous since  
Sealand started going to school. I thought maybe it could be your food though,  
so I brought you some of mine!" America says with a cheerful  
grin.

England laughed. America had always had his rather odd ways of  
cheering people up, maybe that's why they worked so well. "He is trying hard to  
learn, he wants to start and educational system so more people will move to his  
land. He dreams of being a big country someday. He can be quite foolish, he  
doesn't realize how hard it is to be a country." England says.

America laughed. "It doesn't take much to be a country, but what does take work is being  
a hero!" America says, throwing his fist in the air.

England couldn't help but laugh at this. America smiled, realizing what he was doing was working.  
"I am the hero!" America gestured his hand forward. England grabbed it, and  
together they walked.

America was in an unusually good mood. England didn't know why, until he remembered. "So I see your birthday is in a week."  
England said. "Correct! I knew you'd remember Iggy!" America exclaimed, giving  
England a big bear hug.

"You know I hate being called Iggy." England  
says, pushing America off of him.

"Someone's a little cranky, something  
happen with Sealand?" America asked. England sighed. America could read him like  
a book, even though America didn't do much reading himself.

England  
sighs. "It's just he was acting rather strange this morning. I didn't want to  
point it out though. I think he had a nightmare, or the pressure is just getting  
to him."

"That little boy of yours is rather tough. For something to have  
worried him so..." America trailed off. "So where would you like to eat? I'm  
starving!"

England tried to smile. He didn't want to show how worried he  
actually was. Sealand looked scared, he had never seen him look so scared in his  
life. That was something for him to worry about.

"Calm down! Everything  
will be fine!" America says cheerfully. England starts getting angry. How does  
he know? America can be so naive at times. England calms himself down, wondering  
how he could get angry at him.

"Let's eat!"

Of course, America  
seemed to hate uncomfortable topics. He avoided them at any cost, and of course  
always tried to be the hero. That is just who he is, and who he will always be.

"America, you know I hate burgers." England said in disgust. "How can  
you hate burgers?" America asked, shoving a burger down his throat. "They are  
amazing! Especially compared to your food." America said.

England never  
understood how America could eat such fattening and greasy food. Sure his food  
wasn't the greatest, but it wasn't that bad, right?

"I'm not hungry."  
England stated. He was no hungry, which was strange considering he had been  
hungry only moments before. Something was off, something was wrong.

All  
of a sudden, he felt something. Something like he had never felt before. He  
collapsed to the ground. America was stared by this, and ran over to  
England.

"England! England! Wake up!" He screamed. He had never seen  
England in such bad physical condition. He was trembling, they both were.  
England could barely breathe.

"Sealand..."

"Peter, you ok?"  
Sealand opens his eyes. On the ground, head throbbing, he returns to  
consciousness. "Here, you can hold the rabbit." Once Sealand becomes aware of  
his surroundings, he notices his teacher holding the rabbit.

Sealand  
screams, backing as far away as he can away from it. "Get that thing away from  
me!" He screams. He sees a vision of the little girl being murdered, which makes  
him scream even more.

"Lilia, go take the rabbit out of the room." The  
teacher says, handing over the rabbit. "Where do I take it?" She asks. "Just  
take it home, everyone is dismissed early." Everyone cheers, leaving the room.  
Lilia still remains.

The teacher gives Sealand a big hug. "It'll be ok.  
Everything will be ok." She says in a soothing voice. Sealand is now crying. "I  
was so scared." He says, clutching her tighter. He has not been this afraid  
before.

"I don't deserve such nice things." Lilia says in a monotone  
voice, dropping the rabbit on the ground. Even Sealand grew silent. Lilia walked  
out of the room, acting as if nothing had happened.

"I don't know why..."  
The teacher started to say. Sealand pushed her out of his way and raced towards  
the door. "Peter wait!" She yelled, but Sealand ignored her.

"Lilia!"  
Sealand yelled. She was no where in sight. "Lilia!" He yelled again in hopes of  
a response. There was none. It was like she had vanished into thin air. "Peter  
come here!" He heard his teacher yell. There wasn't any time for him to respond.  
He knew Lilia loved the library, so it would be best to look there.

He runs as fast as he can, for fear of being followed. His teacher's  
voice slowly dies out. Even though she wasn't a citizen of his own, she was a  
citizen of his father, therefore he felt responsible for whatever happened to  
her.

All of a sudden, he jerked back. He didn't know why, he felt that  
something forced it. "Peter." A voice whispered. It sounded like Lilia...but  
older. How?

"Sealand. I see you aren't use to your human name yet." The  
voice said. "Who...who are you?" Sealand asked, startled. How did she know who  
he was. He looked around to see if anyone was watching. No one. Not a single  
person was outside.

"Sorry for startling you." Out of nowhere, a human  
appeared in front of him. She had long white hair. She wore a white dress made  
up of feathers. Everything else looked like Lilia, but older, more mature. She  
almost had an angelic glow to her. "What...what are you exactly?"


End file.
